Chapter 364 Sacrifice
Because of Elodie, Esme and Quentin couldn't head back to Silvercrest just yet.
Elodie had been stuck in bed all day. By nightfall, she was losing it and kept nagging to get up.
Esme said, "Elodie, the doc said you can't sit up yet."
Elodie wasn't having it. "I've been lying here all day; I'm gonna waste away. Even if I can't get out of bed and walk, I need to sit up for a bit."
Esme, unable to resist Elodie's nagging, finally gave in, "Alright, just lie still. I'll adjust the bed so you can sit up and chill for a while."
"Okay." Elodie nodded.
When Esme raised the bed, Elodie sat up but was still half-lying down. Elodie shifted a bit and frowned, "Mom, why do I feel like I can't feel my waist?"
As she spoke, Elodie reached out to touch her leg. "Weird, I can't feel my leg either."
"Elodie," Esme walked over and grabbed Elodie's hand, a bit flustered. "The doc said when you fell from upstairs, you messed up your nerves, and your leg is hurt. Plus, the anesthesia hasn't worn off yet, so it's normal that you can't feel anything now."
"Really?" Elodie was half-convinced.
A knock sounded at the door, making Elodie and Esme look up.
Isabella pushed the door open, carrying a fruit basket and holding a bouquet of flowers. "I came to see Elodie."
Elodie frowned. "Are you here to laugh at me? Get out! I don't need you to visit me!"
Esme said, "Mom, tell her to get out. If it weren't for Nina, I wouldn't have fallen from upstairs and ended up lying here. They're all bad people; I hate them!" She was full of resentment.
Isabella, not wanting to put Esme in a tough spot, graciously said, "Please take these fruits and flowers inside. I won't be coming in."
Esme glanced at Elodie, who was just glaring angrily at Isabella without saying anything. Then Esme got up to take the items.
Unexpectedly, as soon as Esme came over, Elodie started to act up.
Elodie first let out a scream, then grabbed the phone on the bedside table and chucked it over.
Isabella couldn't dodge in time and got hit on the back of her hand by the phone. The intense pain spread instantly, and Isabella's hand trembled twice, almost dropping the flowers.
"Get out!" Elodie's scream came again. "Make her leave; I don't want her stuff. Get out!"
Just as Isabella was about to speak, Esme pushed her out and slammed the door shut.
Isabella stood at the door, hearing Elodie's continued wailing inside, mixed with Esme's gentle coaxing.
Esme said, "Elodie, don't be like this. I'm here; don't scare me."
"Mom." Elodie threw herself into Esme's arms. "I hate them; make them leave. I don't want to see them!"
"Okay, okay!" Esme held Elodie, heartbroken; she agreed, "I'll make them leave; I won't let them come again. Don't worry. As long as I'm here, no one can hurt you."
The sounds inside gradually quieted down. Isabella looked down at the flowers in her arms, suddenly feeling that their bright colors were overly glaring.
Isabella waited outside for about half an hour, but Esme never came out.
She was lost in thought when a pair of men's shoes appeared in her line of sight.
Quentin asked, "Why are you sitting here alone, not going in?"
Isabella looked up. "Mr. Black."
Her gaze flicked to the still-closed door. "I don't want to upset Elodie. Can you help me take these flowers in?"
"Sure," Quentin agreed easily, took the bouquet but placed it on a nearby chair. Then he grabbed Isabella's wrist. "What happened to your hand?"
Isabella's hand was bruised and slightly swollen from Elodie's throw.
She pulled her hand back. "I'm fine."
"Wait here for me," Quentin said, then turned and walked briskly to the nurse's station.
Isabella saw him talking to a nurse, and after a while, he came back with a bottle of medicine.
Opening the cap, a strong medicinal smell wafted out.
Quentin poured some into his palm and reached for Isabella's hand.
Isabella pulled back. "I'm really fine, no need."
"I'm a doctor. You should listen to me. If you don't treat it now, your hand's gonna hurt like hell in a few days, and you might not be able to sleep. It's not too late now. I'll apply some medicine, and the swelling will go down quickly," Quentin said sincerely.
Without waiting for Isabella to respond, Quentin grabbed her hand again and applied the medicine.
Isabella stiffened; then she felt the pain gradually ease where he rubbed. After a few moments, the swelling seemed to disappear. She also noticed that Quentin's technique was very professional.
This reminded Isabella of the last time Quentin saved a cat. She asked instinctively, "What kind of doctor were you before?"
Quentin said, "I studied a bit of everything—psychology, internal medicine, and evne some surgery."
Isabella was slightly surprised. "I didn't expect you to know so much. Why did you stop being a doctor?"
Quentin's eyes flickered. "Because of someone."
This touched on Quentin's personal privacy, so Isabella didn't ask further.
But Quentin looked up and said a name. "Lova Black."
"Lova Black?" This was the second time Isabella had heard this name.
Quentin said, "I mentioned her to you before; she's sick. She has a very strange illness. To find the cause, I researched a lot and even set up a lab. Despite all my efforts, I found nothing."
"A person who can't even find the cause of an illness doesn't deserve to be a doctor," Quentin said with a self-deprecating smile; Isabella felt he was more angry at his own helplessness.
Isabella asked, "Is there really no way to cure it?"
Quentin paused. "There is one way."
Quentin looked up, staring into Isabella's eyes. "But it requires someone willing to sacrifice themselves."
After a few seconds of eye contact with Quentin, Isabella suddenly felt a wave of dizziness. She wanted to look away but found herself drawn into Quentin's deep eyes, as if she sank into a quagmire, unable to save herself.
